


Aegon's Conquest

by CheyWolf47425



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms
Genre: Amused Rhaenys Targaryen, Courtship, Dornish trolling, Dragons, F/F, F/M, Northern influence, Obvious Lyarra Stark, Pining Aegon I Targaryen, The Conquest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-04-01 06:25:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13992372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheyWolf47425/pseuds/CheyWolf47425
Summary: The North submits to Aegon when their princess is courted by the Targaryen king. Lyarra aids in the invasion of Dorne while juggling Visenya's distrust, Rhaenys' teasing and Aegon's courtship.





	1. Chapter 1

“You want me to do what?” Lyarra stared incredulously at her brother. “Peace talks? The Targaryens killed many people and you want peace with them?”

Torrhen sighed heavily as their lowborn brother pinched his nose, “You are far more level headed than Brandon and myself. You have a good mind for strategy as it was you who lead the Houses of Bear Island against the Ironborn. If I go then the men will take it that we will fight the dragons but I want to find another solution.”

Lyarra looked at Brandon who shrugged at her as if he was saying that he couldn’t change their brother’s mind. Torrhen was as hard headed at their older brother had been. Their older brother; Rodrik, was meant to rule the North but he died in his bed wounded from saving her. A wildling man had gotten into Winterfell intent on stealing away little Arsa but she interfered when Arsa screamed for help. Lyarra managed to cut one of the wildling’s hand off before the wildling had beat her with his spear. Rodrik saved Arsa and herself by throwing himself between the spear and them while stabbing the man in his throat.

“Very well,” Lyarra breathed through her nose. “Who will come along with me?”

“I will,” Brandon answered. “As a personal guard for you and Maester Wylas as we had heard that the Targaryens worship the blasted Seven. I will go tell the grey cloak arse he’s coming along if he’s not fucking a whore.”

Brandon left the tent grumbling to himself leaving the two siblings alone. Torrhen gazed at her with sad grey eyes causing Lyarra to sigh as she sat down across from Torrhen. “You are aware that you will need to bend the knee or die fighting?”

“Aye and my son will seek vengeance against the Targaryens.” Torrhen poured ale into two goblets handing one to Lyarra. “The North will follow what I choose even if they do not like it.”

“Like how you punched Lord Bolton for making the moves on me?” Lyarra snorted. “That was an amusing sight as the arse’s eyes rolled behind his head.”

"I think Rodrik laughed so hard that the ale he was drinking came through his nose." Torrhen mused causing Lyarra to chuckle. Torrhen smiled slightly at his sister as she leaned back on the chair.

"Do you think that they will be aware of guest right?" Lyarra asked tapping her goblet.

"Perhaps," Torrhen poured ale into his goblet. "I believed that Lady Sharra Arryn would have told this Aegon Targaryen of it."

"In between her failing to seduce the poor man or her son failing at ruling the Vale?" Lyarra questioned rising her eyebrows at her brother.

"I wouldn't repeat that in front of her." Torrhen advised. Lyarra waved her hand dismissively at him with a sardonic smile.

"In front of her victim of her sorry excuse of seduction, you mean."

"Don't turn your acerbic wit on your own brother," Torrhen complained half-heartedly with an amused smile. The two sat in comfortable silence as Brandon poked his head inside the tent.

"We are ready whenever you are, Lya." Brandon said.

Lyarra set the goblet down with a solemn nod as she stood up flicking the dirt from her leather trousers. Torrhen stood with her and stared at her with solemn eyes before tugging her into a tight hug. Lyarra sighed as she buried her face into the fur cloak her brother wore as she hugged Torrhen back.

"May we meet again." Torrhen whispered as he released her with a grim look upon his face.

"Try not to look so grim, brother." Brandon said opening the flap of the tent for Lyarra to pass through with a grin. "I'll protect her with my life as Rodrik did."

Torrhen gave Brandon a dry look, "Try not to butcher the talks."

"I'll try not too." Brandon grasped Torrhen's forearm with a steady grip. "Our family will honor whatever the Targaryen king and our princess decide on."

"Bound by honor." Torrhen tried for a grin.

Brandon finished with soft punched to Torrhen's shoulder, "Tied with blood." 

Torrhen watched silently as his brother followed their sister of the tent with his heart in Torrhen’s throat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aegon leaned against the table in the command tent along with his sister-wives, Orys, Lord Edmyn Tully, Lord Harlen Tyrell, Lord Loren Lannister, Crispian Celtigar, Triston Massey, and his cousin Daemon Velaryon when Grand Maester Gawen entered the tent.

“My lords and Your Graces,” Grand Maester Gawen begun speaking. “Princess Lyarra Stark has crossed the Trident along with her bastard brother and a maester.”

“For what reason?” Orys questioned with frown.

“I would assume that the King in the North wants a parley with His Grace.” Grand Maester Gawen replied.

“Princess Lyarra Stark is a formidable woman,” Edmyn told the council. “Just a few years prior to your conquest. She sent the Ironborn back to the Iron Islands with only a small force from Winterfell and House Mormont women.”

“Warrior women?” Daemon scoffed but paled from the looks of Visenya and Rhaenys. “Women are for breeding… except for you two.”

Edmyn sighed at Daemon, “From what I heard, Harren the Black had asked King Torrhen and Princess Lyarra’s older brother for her hand but King Rodrik replied with ‘my sister does not need a man who butchers his people for a husband.’ In a fit of rage, Harren sent another force of Ironborn to sack Bear Island with his eldest son leading them. Princess Lyarra sent back his son’s head in response.”

“She sounds quite the woman,” Aegon mused. “Do you think King Torrhen will offer his sister as a marriage candidate?”

Orys covered his laughter with one hand at Aegon’s resigned tone. Aegon hated the attention he received from women enough that he rarely slept with his sisters during his invasion.

“I hoped not otherwise I will skin Torrhen alive and hang him by his thumbs,” a husky pitched female voice said at the opening of the tent. 

Aegon stared at the Stark female who had her hands on a handle of a baselard. Her waist length dark brown hair was slightly curled from the humidity and dark kohl made her grey eyes stand out more than any eyes that Aegon had meet. Her skin was a healthy pale and scarless but Aegon could see a long scar on her left hand. Like most Northmen he had seen, Princess Lyarra wore leather to keep the chill from her. 

He admitted to himself that Princess Lyarra Stark was beautiful as his wives. Unlike most women Aegon had meet over his life, there was no hint of lustful longing in those grey eyes just blankness like snow. Aegon felt drawn to the Stark Princess like he had been with his sisters.

“Princess,” Aegon began interrupting whatever Visenya was about to start with the Northern Princess. “Welcome to the command tent.”

“Enough of pleasantries, King Aegon.” Princess Lyarra stated with an icy tone. “I am here for a treaty not a cup of wine.”

“Fair enough, Princess.” Aegon nodded at the chair before his. “I hope you do not mind my wives and Lord Baratheon staying.”

“I am your guest not your mother.” Aegon blinked at the witty response that caused Princess Lyarra’s eyes widen before she slapped her scarred hand over her mouth. He could feel Orys struggling not to laugh at his expression.

“Gods dammit, Lya.” The rough looking man placed his hand over his eyes. Princess Lyarra glared at the man with icy eyes but the man just grin at her. “I’m Brandon Snow. Bastard sibling of King Torrhen and Princess Lyarra Stark.”

Aegon waved the lords that was with him to leave the tent besides his sisters and Orys. He laced his fingers together to lean on his hands staring at Princess Lyarra Stark. The Princess blinked slowly at him before Rhaenys spoke up.

“How old are you, Princess?”

“One and twenty.” Princess Lyarra responded.

“And yet you are unwed.” Rhaenys raised her eyebrow at the Northern beauty.

“I was married to Lord Bolton’s eldest son but he lost his head.” At Princess Lyarra’s response, Brandon smirked.

“How unfortunate.” Visenya drawled out.

“Supposedly,” Princess Lyarra looked at Aegon. “I assume you want my brother to submit to your rule.”

Aegon tilted his head, “No marriage proposals?”

The Princess and Brandon stared at him before laughing loudly; Aegon stared stunned as the Northern Princess seemed to come alive as she struggled to breathe.

“No,” Princess Lyarra managed to get out breathlessly. “My country’s survival is first in my brother’s mind. If we submit to you without a fight what will you do in return?”

“Give the title of Warden of the North to King Torrhen and not take Northern swords.” Aegon replied. “I have heard the winters here are harsh so you will need it.”

“Aye,” Brandon nodded. “The seasons are changing even now.”

“Could be summer snows,” Princess Lyarra leaned her head back to look at Brandon. Aegon could feel his trousers tightened at the unmarked pale skin that was revealed to him. He hadn’t laid with Visenya or Rhaenys in some time. Bare skin of a woman would interested any man, Aegon reasoned with himself. Aegon shifted slightly causing Rhaenys to look at him concerned but Aegon smiled softly at her.

“One request that we have is that even if you are visiting any Northern household is that you follow the rules and guest right.” Princess Lyarra picked at her fingernails.

“What is this guest right?” Visenya asked.

“When a guest, be they high or low born, eats a meal off the host’s table guest right is provoked. It means the guest and the host cannot harm each other until the host gives the guest a departing gift ending guest right.” Princess Lyarra explained. “However, if the host’s sword is bare across his or her knees guest right is denied.”

“Why did you even come here if your brother will bend the knee?” Orys eyed the Stark female.

“Survival. If you had killed myself or Brandon when we had arrive then Torrhen would have fought you until every man, woman, old and young died by your men or dragons.”

“But we didn’t.” Rhaenys stared at Princess Lyarra with interested eyes. “I have a request, my King.”

Visenya pinched her nose at their sister as Aegon looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “What is your request?”

“Have Princess Lyarra Stark as your third wife.” Rhaenys had stood up from her seat to wrap her arms around Aegon’s shoulders as she stared at Princess Lyarra.

The other four stared stunned at the sly Queen who had hid her smile in Aegon’s shoulder.

“The fuck?” Princess Lyarra managed to get out as she stared at his sister.

“Oh… you didn’t noticed my dear brother staring at you since you spoke up?” Rhaenys lifted her head to smile at the dark haired female. “My brother always had a weakness for strong women.”

“Is that why he’s so whipped by you?” Princess Lyarra snapped flustered. Brandon laid his hand on her shoulder but the younger woman shrugged him off by standing. “I need some air.”

With her parting words, Princess Lyarra stormed out of the tent leaving behind a stunned group and a solemn Brandon. Rhaenys looked at Brandon with wide violet eyes but the older man sighed heavily.

“Osric Bolton was not gentle towards my sister when they were married.” Brandon offered to the group. “The rest of her story is hers to tell if she so wishes.”

Aegon stood up from his seat causing Rhaenys to pull away from him. “I will speak to her… alone.” He gave a meaningful look towards Visenya and Rhaenys before exiting the command tent. Aegon looked around the encampment before seeing a flash of pale skin among the darker skin tones. He followed a good distanced from Princess Lyarra who stopped at the edge of the encampment watching Balerion, Meraxes and Vhagar dozing on the ground.

“I apologize for my sister’s insensitive proposal, my Lady.” Aegon noticed that the Stark woman didn’t flinch when he spoke up. “I’m sure she meant it in the best way for an alliance.”

“I’m aware.” Without the eyes of his siblings on her, Princess Lyarra seemed relaxed but her nervous rubbing on the handle of her weapon spoke otherwise.

The two watched as Balerion lifted his head to look upon Aegon and Princess Lyarra with questioning amber eyes. The large dragon moved towards Aegon with a purr vibrating in his throat.   
Aegon scratched the membranes underneath amber eyes that stared at Princess Lyarra.

“Amazing,” she whispered staring at Balerion who huffed out smoke towards the Stark. “He is certainly very proud creature.”

“Aye,” Aegon smiled at Balerion.

“The marriage between you and myself would be beneficial to the North.” Princess Lyarra stated softly. “Unfortunately, it was proven to me that it is hard on my body to give birth to a child.”

Aegon stared at the princess out of the corner of his eyes, “I’m sorry to hear that, my Lady.”

Princess Lyarra stared at Balerion with sad grey eyes before looking at him. Aegon could understand how Rhaenys could come to the conclusion of a marriage match as Princess Lyarra is very beautiful like fresh snow.

“I agree to the match if you do, King Aegon.”

“If we are to wed then call me Aegon. Are you alright with me calling you Lyarra?” Aegon dropped his hand from Balerion’s head. “You didn’t flinch when Balerion neared. That shows strength of character.”

“Or stupidity.” Lyarra muttered. “I’m fine with you calling me by name, Aegon.”


	2. Chapter 2

Lyarra stood beside Queen Rhaenys as her brother laid the crown of Kings of Winter at Aegon’s feet. Lyarra twisted the ruby ring that Aegon had given her to show that he was courting her to the rest of Westeros. Lyarra knew that she will be amused when Lady Sharra Arryn hears of this and will likely be outrage that Aegon to take a woman who gave birth to a stillborn. Aegon merely smiled at her when Lyarra told him that.

“How do you feel about being a queen?” Rhaenys asked Lyarra who looked at her.

“Indifferent.”

Lyarra could feel Rhaenys pouting at her as she stepped forward to hug her brother after Aegon named Torrhen the Warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell. She felt her brother press a kiss on the top of her head as he hugged her back tightly.

“Advice for you, Your Grace.” Torrhen stepped away from Lyarra. “Wolf’s blood runs through her vein like how dragon’s blood runs through yours. Too extremes tend to go against each other.”

“I will treat her kindly, Lord Stark.” Aegon nodded as he gently place his hand to the base of Lyarra’s spine.

~~~~~~~

Lyarra walked through the Targaryen camp ignoring the stares from the men as her handmaiden Mariah Cassel followed her. The sounds of screams captured her attention as she turned in the direction of the scream.

“My Lady!” Mariah picked up her skirt to hurry after Lyarra. “What if King Aegon found out that you wandered off?”

“He does not rule me or my decision, Mariah.” Lyarra said distractedly as she pulled the opening of the tent open to reveal Lord Orys holding down a badly burnt man as Grand Maester Gawen carefully checked the man.

“Who is this?” Lyarra asked the older man as Mariah covered her mouth in horror of the burns covering the body of the man.

“Prince Edmund Gardener.” the Maester said distracted as he placed a foul smelling ointment on the prince. “He was burnt in the Field of Fire.”

Pained hazel eyes meet her grey as Edmund groaned in pain. Lyarra pulled out her baselard as she waved the Grand Maester and Lord Orys away from the man. When the two men did as she bid, Lyarra sat herself beside Prince Edmund as they held eye contact.

“Do you want to live? Groan twice for yes and groan once for no.” Lyarra spoke softly as she lifted the prince’s head ignoring the blood getting on her hands.

Prince Edmund groaned once, “I-I w-w-want t-to be w-with my f-f-family. I d-do n-n-not wish t-to be the l-last.”

“What are you doing?” Orys demanded Lyarra but her icy gaze quickly silenced him. Grand Maester Gawen, Orys and Mariah watched in silence as Lyarra lended her baselard to Prince Edmund. The Gardener Prince almost dropped the weapon as his muscles were too weak to hold a weapon. Lyarra covered Edmund’s charred hand with her pale hand. Lyarra helped the prince placed the baselard to his chest.

As the blade sank into Prince Edmund’s chest, Lyarra murmured to the quickly dying prince. “And now your fight has ended.”

Pained hazel eyes dulled as the charred hand went limp in Lyarra’s hand. Lyarra pulled her weapon from Edmund’s chest as easily as it went into the man. Lyarra wiped the blood from the blade with the cloth underneath the deceased prince.

“That was torture keeping that man from the edge of death,” she sharply scolded Grand Maester Gawen as she slipped the baselard into its scabbard. “Do the heavily burnt men the gift of mercy instead of keeping them alive.”

Lyarra could feel Orys’s eyes following her as she exited the tent with Mariah following her. She refused to feel any remorse for telling the maester off. Let Orys be pissed for she will not change for no man. She is Winterfell’s daughter not some woman that men can control.

“Lady Stark,” Orys called out stopping her a few feet away from the tent. “It was King Aegon who asked Grand Maester Gawen to keep Prince Edmund alive. He will not be happy to hear that he has died.”

“Noted.”

“Grand Maester Gawen will tell him how Prince Edmund died.”

Lyarra looked back at Orys who stared at her solemnly as he observed her. “I will deal with him when that comes to past, Lord Baratheon. I do not need someone to protect me from anyone.”

“Aegon’s wrath is not a joking matter, my Lady.” Orys said bowing his head. “I just thought to warn you of it before you get hurt.”

Lyarra faintly smiled at the older man before walking away from Orys. She had been through worse at the hands of her ex husband. When the man force himselfー no. Lyarra clenched her fists together as she forcibly exhaled. A gentle touch to her elbow jerked Lyarra out of her thoughts to meet the violet eyes of Rhaenys. The younger Targaryen monarch scrutinized her as the taller woman led her away from the medical tent and to where Meraxes and Vhagar was eating their meal. A simple raised hand from Rhaenys stopped Mariah from following the two. Mariah curtsied as she scurried to where House Stark’s tent was.

“Grand Maester Gawen inform Aegon, Visenya and myself that you had killed Prince Edmund Gardener.” Rhaenys revealed after a long period of silence between two women.

“Murder and the gift of mercy does not mean the same thing.” Lyarra crossed her arms over her chest staring at the skies. “Is that why Balerion is not here?”

“Aegon has a fierce temper.” Rhaenys said shrugging. “Dragons and their riders bond enough so their personalities sometimes merge together. Take myself and Meraxes for an example. I’m very playful by nature but it is Meraxes’s mischiefness that affects how I think sometimes.”

“And Visenya?”

“She’s always been serious but never vengeful.” Rhaenys sat down on the grass patting the spot beside her. “Vhagar is very vengeful. That one once almost burned Aegon Fort when Aegon refused to lay with Visenya.”

“That is almost similar to skinchanging.” Lyarra mused as she sat down pulling her knees to her chest.

“What is skinchanging?” Rhaenys tilted her head.

“It’s… a strong bond between a human and animal. The human has the ability to enter the mind of the animal and control its actions.” Lyarra tilted her head back. “I remember my mother telling me the story of the Warg King.”

“Warg King?”

“Aye. The Warg King was a monarch in what is now the North after the Long Night. He ruled Sea Dragon Point and was allied with the Children of the Forest. My ancestors killed him and his sons but took the Warg King’s daughters as prizes.”

“I have a feeling that stories of the North isn’t cheerful.” Rhaenys brushed her silver-blonde hair from her face.

“No, the stories are more truth than lies told by drunk bards in inns.” Lyarra pulled at the grass. “The Warg King is one of many warnings. No man should be able to control multiple animals without losing their sanity.”

“Any more frightening stories you can tell me?” Rhaenys smiled softly at Lyarra.

“There’s the Long Night, the Rat Cook, Danny Flint, The Night’s King, and The Last Hero through that one ties into the Long Night.”

“The Long Night and the Last Hero then.” 

Lyarra shivered as she pulled her cloak around her, “In the midst of this darkness a race of apparent demons, called the Others, emerged from the uttermost north of Westeros, the polar regions of the Lands of Always Winter. They wielded razor-thin swords of ice and raised wights to fight the living. The children of the forest and their allies, the First Men, fought valiantly against them, but were driven southwards by their advance. The old, the young, men, and women lived and died in darkness. Women suffocate their babies so the children wouldn’t be killed by wights or turned into an Other. The Last Hero and his group of men travelled North to find the Children for aid. Wights, Others and giants killed most of the Last Hero’s group but he survived to find the Children. The Children showed the First Men how to beat the Others and drove them back North. The first ever members of the Night’s Watch formed that day.”

“Wouldn’t fire kill an Other?” Rhaenys asked out loud. Lyarra shrugged at Rhaenys. “You don’t know?”

“No.”

“Danny Flint?”

“Danny Flint was a girl from House Flint who joined the Night’s Watch. She was found out by the men of the Night’s Watch and was raped then killed by them.”

“Shit,” Rhaenys whispered. “There’s no women in the Night’s Watch?”

“No.”

A roar interrupted the two as Balerion landed near the other two dragons. Aegon slide off Balerion’s back with one look towards Rhaenys who stood up and kissed Aegon’s cheek before she left Lyarra and Aegon.

~~~~~~~

Aegon examined the younger woman before him as Aegon took in the bags underneath beautiful grey eyes and a slight wrinkle between Lyarra’s eyebrows. Aegon crouched down as he took Lyarra’s chin with his right hand to remain eye contact with the Northerner.

“Are you sleeping at all?” Aegon asked softly. He watched captivated as the wind rustled Lyarra’s dark hair.

“For a few hours.” Lyarra answered just as softly. “I’m not used to always moving around.”

“You can go back to Aegon Fort or Dragonstone or Winterfell if you so wished, Lyarra. I’m not holding you or yours hostage if Lord Stark defies me.” 

“That would be a reason to keep us along with you, Aegon.” Her dry resort brought a smile to his face. Even though Aegon was furious when he heard the Gardener Prince died by Lyarra’s hand, she is too extraordinary for him to remain angry.

Aegon wrapped his arm around Lyarra as he leaned forward causing Lyarra to lay back on the grass. Aegon simply rolled them so he was on the grass and Lyarra was laying on top of him. Aegon smiled at the stunned look that Lyarra gave him. 

“What were you and Rhaenys talking about?” Aegon trailed his fingers up and down Lyarra’s spine.

“The bonds between rider and dragon first. Then, skinchangers and stories from the North.” Lyarra breathed out relaxing slowly in his arms.

Aegon stared up at the sky as Lyarra’s fingers slowly went through his hair as if Lyarra was afraid that he would reject her affections. Eventually, the most of the tension from his war seep out of him as Aegon dozed off with Lyarra on top of him.

~~~~~~~

“Will you tell me of Osric Bolton?” Aegon asked softly with concern. “Your brother just said that he was not gentle to you.”

Aegon allowed Lyarra to sit up on his body to look at him. Her cold hands covered his growing beard as she stared at him. “Osric Bolton was the eldest son of Lord Bolton whose family has been at war with House Stark for a long time. My father decided to marry me off to Osric when he was seven-and-ten and I was four-and-ten years old. At the beginning, Osric seemed a dull man as he showed none of the Bolton’s hatred for the Starks. Pale eyes, clean shaven and vaguely handsome.”

“He hid it well, then.” Aegon bend both of his knees behind Lyarra so she could lean back against his knees.

“He did. It was after the birth of a daughter that he showed his true colors. Osric had thrown my daughter out in the ravenous dogs in the Dreadfort. I watched as the dogs ripped my child apart… each dog fighting each other for a piece of her. I can still remember my baby’s cries before a dog tore out her throat.” Lyarra swallowed as tears run down her cheeks.

Aegon’s calloused fingers wiped her tears away as he guided Lyarra down so their foreheads were pressed together. Lyarra’s hair become a dark curtain so it seemed like it was only herself and Aegon.

“What is her name?” Aegon asked softly.

“I couldn’t named her before she was taken from me.”

“Names have power, Lyarra.”

Lyarra blinked slowly at Aegon who smiled softly at her, “What is your mother’s name?”

“Valaena.”

Lyarra mouthed the name slowly before she brushed her lips against Aegon’s lips, “Her name is Valaena…”

“Did the Bolton do anything else to you?”

“...He caused me to miscarried three times before he declared me barren and sent me back to my home. My brother called him to Winterfell where he beheaded Osric there in the courtyard. Is it wrong of me to feel such satisfaction to see the source of my torment for five years?”

“No,” Aegon replied. “I would have fed Osric to Balerion and see how he liked getting eaten alive.”

“I have advice for the rest of your conquest,” His purple eyes looked at her silently as Lyarra nervously picked at his tunic. “Send Orys and Rhaenys to Dorne and send Visenya to the Vale.”

“Why?”

“Orys could curb Rhaenys’s reckless nature while Visenya is more likely to get Sharra to bend the knee than Orys or Rhaenys. Focus your main army on Dorne. Do not underestimate the Dornish.”


End file.
